


Just Another Monday

by mldrgrl



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, F/M, Feelings, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-11
Updated: 2019-02-11
Packaged: 2019-10-25 23:38:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17734844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mldrgrl/pseuds/mldrgrl
Summary: I got asked to write a story that assumes Monday was real and Mulder got shot.





	Just Another Monday

There’s not enough pressure in the world it seems, to stop the blood from coming.  It blooms out from under her hand and spreads between her fingers, warm and sticky.  She presses hard against his chest, but still it comes. His head is lolling in her lap and she tips his chin back with the tips of her blood-stained fingers so she can see his eyes.  They flutter and roll. He lacks the ability to focus.

 

She doesn’t know what she can do.  Her inclination is to beg him to stay with her, but the man with the gun, Bernard, he’s screaming at everyone not to move, to shut up, to just stay down, or he’ll shoot the rest of them.

 

Mulder coughs and a trickle of blood rolls from the corner of his mouth.  Her eyes pool with tears. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. He can’t leave her now, not when things have been happening between them.  He can’t die on the floor of a bank on a run-of-the-mill Monday morning.

 

“Mulder,” she whispers.  “I’ve got you.”

 

His eyes roll up.  He parts his blood-soaked lips and murmurs something she can’t hear.  She leans closer and puts his ear to his mouth.

 

“He’s got a bomb,” he says.

 

She looks up and Bernard is standing in front of them, proudly baring the explosives vest strapped to his chest.  A small square timer glued to the block of C-4 beeps loudly, counting backwards from 10. Bernard grins down at them.

 

Scully jerks awake and nearly slips from the hard, plastic chair she hasn’t budged from for the last eight hours.  It takes a few moments to clear the dream from her mind and for the beeping of the timer to morph into the steady beep of the heart monitor across from her.  She sucks in a deep breath through her nose and reaches for Mulder’s hand where it lays limp on the hospital bed. She squeezes it softly. To her surprise, Mulder squeezes back.

 

“Mulder?” she whispers, rising up into a crouch so that she hovers close to his face.  “Mulder, can you hear me? Can you open your eyes?”

 

A slight wrinkle develop between Mulder’s brows.  His eyes blink open and shut rather languidly, but finally stay open albeit with drooping lids.  Scully can see the effects of the morphine in his dilated pupils.

 

“Hey,” she says.

 

Mulder licks his lips a few times like he’s thirsty.  “I know what you’re thinking,” he says.

 

“Do you?”

 

“The things I do to get out of a budgetary meeting.”

 

She would laugh, if her eyes didn’t immediately fill with tears.  He gives her a soft smile and another squeeze of his hand.

 

“What’s the damage?” he asks.

 

“You were lucky,” she manages to whisper after swallowing back her emotions.  “He got you in the shoulder, in almost the exact same spot as…”

 

“As when you first clipped me in the wing?”

 

“Anyway you were lucky.  The hostages they interviewed said...they said you stepped in front of that woman.  Took the bullet for her.”

 

“She was just an innocent bystander.”

 

“And you were only there to cash a paycheck.”

 

“Same spot, huh?”  He turns his gaze down towards his left shoulder, bandaged and bruised.  “Think I can get a Guinness record for that?”

 

Trust Mulder to take a gunshot so blithely.  

 

“The suspect they took into custody,” she says.  “Bernard Roe. Witnesses said you warned everyone that he had a bomb.”

 

“Mm.”

 

“How did you know that?”

 

“I don’t know.  I’ve just had the weirdest sense of déjà vu since this morning.  It’s like I’ve gone through it all before.” 

 

She reflects wearily back on her dream.  She wasn’t in that bank when everything went down, she was doing her best not to fall asleep in Skinner’s office, but it felt like she was there.  When the call came through that an agent had been hit in an attempted robbery, she knew right away it was Mulder and she could envision him, on the floor of the bank, bleeding out, dying.  It was like she was with him, but it wasn’t possible. He could’ve died three blocks from her and she wasn’t there.

 

She has the sudden, overwhelming urge to be as close to him as possible.  Impulsively, she slips off her shoes, lowers the bar on the side of the bed, and crawls up into it with him.  It’s a narrow fit, but she manages to tuck herself against his side with her arm over his waist and her head against his shoulder.  He nuzzles the top of her head with his chin.

 

“This is new,” he says.

 

“Is it okay?”

 

“Makes me think I should get myself shot more often.”

 

“Don’t you dare.”

 

She watches the steady green blips bounce across the heart monitor.  His pulse is strong and steady. She closes her eyes and lets the beeps lull her.

 

The End

  
  



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